


Homecoming

by santanico



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, F/M, Oral Sex, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:22:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santanico/pseuds/santanico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders and Justice bring Hawke home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> For this [lovely prompt](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14591.html?thread=54952447). It got a little away from me and beyond the actual prompt itself, but it was too wonderful for me to pass up.

When she presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth, tries to swallow, she’s met with no certain satisfaction. The skin there is rough and dry, and the insides of her cheeks are chewed raw. She lets out a breath and leans against her staff, licking her lips. Still no moisture, but at least the sense of cracked skin and the faint taste of blood feels real.

She’s been walking for days. Probably quite literally – in the Fade, time passes differently, but it still passes. Spirits don’t look at her much. She assumes killing a literal nightmare demon might have something to do with it. That too had taken days, but the Fade wouldn’t allow her to collapse in exhaustion, so every moment remained waking agony.

“Bet Varric’s pissed,” she mutters, collapsing on the ground. She presses the palms of her hands against her eye sockets, trying to focus on darkness instead of an endless scape of shifting shades of green and yellow. _Varric_. The thought aches in the corners of her mind, seeps into her chest. Varric, Aveline, Fenris, Isabela, _Merrill_. She’s so tired, but her heart throbs. Carver will blame the Warden, Alistair – a man who fought against an Archdemon. She wants to tell him she’s alright, in some way, even if she’ll never see him again.

When she looks up, blinking against the brightness, she lets out a hiss. “Damn. You again.”

“Hawke.” The voice is loud, echoes across the Fade and seems to reverberate against shadows, along rocks.

_Anders is going to die…_

“This is, what, the fifth time you’ve used this trick?” She waves a hand at Anders’ form, turning her gaze away. “It’s not convincing anymore. Where’s the little scar on his pinky?” She looks at the Fade thing and it tilts its head, a frown on Anders’ face. Which has scars and pores in all the right places. She presses her lips together and scowls.

“You have been missed,” the booming voice says.

“Justice?”

“Yes.” His skin seems to glow further, seep out his eyes more quickly, as he confirms.

Hawke pushes herself to her feet, grabbing her staff and stumbling. Justice – Anders – or maybe some fake Fade beast – steadies her by catching her elbow.

“You’re not real,” she says, squinting at him. “It’s not possible. I…”

“Varric sent a letter,” Justice says, his voice continuing to ring. “Anders was distraught, but I offered him peace.”

“If you’re a conjuring of another piece of shit nightmare demon, you better tell me right now, or I’m going to be so pissed.”

Justice peers at her again, blinking slowly. “Ah. You are frustrated, and frightened. Anders is annoyed – I can feel him aching at the edge of my…consciousness. Of course, humans cannot travel the Fade the way I can. He wanted to seek you out, but only I knew how to find you.” Justice lifts a hand and brushes it along Hawke’s cheek. She leans into it – no warmth, not here, but there’s comfort in the glowing cracks along his skin.

“You _are_ real,” she whispers, and Justice’s lips twitch into a smile.

“I believe that to be so.”

“Do you know a way out of here?”

Justice moves so his fingers wrap around hers, and he even squeezes them. Hawke takes it as reassurance and smiles, following as he turns and starts walking in one direction.

“This is the Fade. There is rarely a way out, not in the way that humans think…”

Hawke dips her head and grins.

-

Varric will absolutely shit himself when she sees him again.

Being pulled out of the Fade is – something. Like being pressed into a very tight space and then pulled at all edges and then falling, and falling, and clinging to Justice and feeling him spread thin across the veil, and then collapsing in the grass in a field Maker knows where.

“Hawke. You’re alive.”

She rolls over, landing flat on top of Anders.

The first smile she’s seen in…way too long.

She kisses him, grabbing his face, and laughs as he sits up, their mouths still connected.

“Honestly, I didn’t think that’d work,” Anders says between breaths as Hawke starts to spread kisses over his face. “Justice was – he convinced me.”

“Are you saying you went on a suicide mission into the Fade to try to get me back?” Hawke murmurs, rubbing her thumb across his jaw and leaning back. Anders pulls her closer in his arms, squeezing gently. “Both of you?”

“Well. When you put it that way, it does sound like a rather terrible idea. But…yes.” He kisses her again. “Getting home might be a problem though. This isn’t where we left from.”

“You’re going to have to tell me everything, Anders.”

Anders strokes her cheek and pushes her dirty hair away from her face. “I certainly will,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “He missed you.”

“Just him?” Hawke teases.

“We both did. It was terrible. Worse, just knowing you were in the way of danger.” He pauses and looks at her. “Hawke. Why would you _stay_?”

“I felt responsible. And angry. Knowing that Corypheus is still…And Alistair, he saved the world once already, I couldn’t…”

“Corypheus is dead. Thanks to you, love. I got word for Varric that the Inquisitor dealt with him. The sky is healed. Haven’t you noticed?”

Hawke blinks, looking up over Anders’ shoulder at the clear blue sky. “How long have I been gone?”

“Far too long. Let’s go home.”

-

They stop in different villages, unrecognized. People are less hostile than before, Hawke notices. They offer water and places to sleep, even if it’s just hay in a barn. Anders’ strokes her hair when they rest, and tells her of the months she’s been gone.

 _Months_. She shivers at the thought. It had felt like days, maybe a week. Not a good chunk of a year.

“We need to see Varric as soon as possible,” Anders mumbles. Hawke listens to his steady breathing. “The letter he sent was heart-wrenching. It’s…hard to explain. I wept for my loss, but I…wept for his, as well. Varric remains a friend.”

“I’m glad,” Hawke whispers. “It’s…comforting, knowing that…that my friends and family, they know.”

“They know, Hawke. That’s why we have to see them.”

“Sure, but first…”

Anders laughs, and it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

-

The reunions are mostly quiet, stirring and taking shape over time as they travel together. She never leaves his side, doesn’t _want_ to, constantly watching the way Anders’ face shifts.

Aveline and Carver greet them with tears in their eyes. When Carver grabs onto her, Hawke sobs, burying her face in her little brother’s hair. “You’re safe,” she whispers, leaning back to touch him and laugh. “Oh, Maker, you’re safe.”

“Idiot,” Carver says, the words shaking in the back of his throat. “It’s you we were scared for. Got a stupid letter from Varric, and now I have to wait months just to find out you’re alive…” He wipes at his eye with the back of his hand. “Sister. You have been sorely missed.”

“I know,” she says, stroking his face. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought I had lost both of my sisters. Thank you…for bringing her back.” Carver’s gaze shifts away from Hawke’s eyes and he looks over her shoulder to Anders hovering behind them in the doorway. “Despite our differences, I am…glad.”

Anders says nothing, but when Hawke glances over at him he’s nodding. She looks back at Carver, who grins.

“Sister.” The word feels so good, warm in her chest, to hear. “Don’t forget to keep in touch.”

“I won’t,” she promises.

-

Isabela, Merrill, and Fenris greet her with laughter, tears, and hugs.

Merrill kisses her face and speaks too quickly before she gets flushed from embarrassment and excitement and starts to cry. Isabela laughs and teases and hugs Anders too, and Hawke watches from a distance as she holds him. She imagines Isabela is probably telling him something, whispering in his ear; a warning, a suggestion, perhaps something about Fenris, but she doesn’t listen.

Fenris smiles at her, his eyes quiet and expression unreadable.

“Hawke,” he says, and she hesitates, thinking to take his hand. When she holds out hers he takes it, and tugs her forward, pressing their bodies together into a tight hug. She feels at home, and she laughs against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to have made you all worry,” she says, glancing between the three. Anders remains quiet, but he’s always a steady presence at her side. Hawke can feel his warmth; both the vibrations of it and something more internal that seeps off of him, makes her feel safe. “I’m glad…that you’re alright.”

An unlikely combination; she had been surprised to hear the three of them ended up together after some time. Isabela leaving her ship, Fenris abandoning Tevinter, and Merrill pausing from her studies. Maybe they needed each other more than she thought – Hawke looks around the room at four people she loves endlessly, and the realization that they have come to love each other as well makes her choke up for a moment.

“I’m so sorry.”

Isabela is the first to step forward, wrapping her arms around Hawke’s shoulders. “You’ve been through so much. You’re allowed to rest.”

-

 

-

Skyhold is bigger and more magnificent than she remembered. The Antivan woman greets her with a grin and clipboard in hand, leading her up stairs and down hallways.

“So this is the famous…Anders?” The woman – Josephine, Hawke remembers – throws a tentative smile over her shoulder, pressing her lips together. “And you are the one who dove into the Fade to save…”

“Yes,” Anders says, and his voice is still smooth. He smiles at Josephine and steps a little closer to Hawke. She’s glad for the warmth in her space. “It was the only choice.”

“Of course,” Josephine says easily, nodding. “And we are all the better for that choice.”

She opens a door, leads Hawke and Anders down another hallway, and then opens another door to the left.

“You sly bastard.”

Hawke laughs as Varric strides across the room and holds out his arms. She leans down, hugging him as tight as she can, starting to laugh as he does as well.

She hears a whispered, “Thank you,” and then another muffled laugh into her hair. The Inquisitor approaches her when Hawke and Varric separate, brushing her hand on Hawke’s shoulder. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you made it out.” Hawke nods at Lavellan, smiling and taking the hand offered to her and squeezing the Inquisitor’s fingers. Lavellan turns slightly then, making direct eye contact with Anders, who stands nears the door with his hands folded in front of him.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Lavellan says in a quiet voice, and Hawke blinks and has to force herself not to chuckle. Anders keeps a straight face, and even Varric watches quietly. “I know not everyone here feels the same way, but from what I’ve heard, you helped change things. For the first time in…in too long.” Lavellan shakes her head. “I may not have been raised in a Circle, but the fear remains, even to this day.”

Anders doesn’t speak for a moment before he gives the slightest of nods. “Justice demands change. We had to start somewhere.”

If Varric sighs, it’s quiet enough that only Hawke notices.

-

They settle in a cottage outside a small village in Ferelden, near the Hinterlands. As Hawke collapses into a kitchen chair, she sighs. “I have _dirt_ so far under my fingernails I’m not sure where my skin begins.”

Anders chuckles, stepping behind her and resting his hands on her shoulders. “That’s probably more than anyone needs to know,” he says, but his voice is gentle as he kisses her forehead. “Hawke.”

“We haven’t really been alone in a while, have we?"

She feels him smile against her hair.

“Want to take a bath?” she says, and he laughs.

-

She doesn’t just let him do all the work. Though she appreciates Anders’ back rubs and his fingers caressing through her wet hair, she makes sure he soaks as well, running the soapy cloth along his back and shoulders and scrubbing at places his shirts had been caked up with blood and dirt.

“You have new scars,” she says, tracing one along his chest. It follows all the way up his shoulder, a thin but jagged line that looks like it was made by a small hatchet or a dagger. It stops near his throat, and she kisses the place where it ends. The skin beneath is healed, just softened and pink, but she still touches it with care. “I feel like I missed so damned much…”

He gently rests an arm around her waist. “And now,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We can rest.”

Hawke is quiet for a moment, continuing to follow the lines of scars – new and old – on Anders’ skin. A part of her feels torn down the middle; the comfort of being naked with him reminds her of years ago, and it feels natural, but it also feels different and strange after so many months without him, and so many weeks with barely a chance to bathe but to pour water over their bodies and hurry back into dry clothes before they got too cold.

She curls up closer to him and whispers, “How is Justice?”

Anders snorts, pressing his cheek to her hair. “He is quiet, but present. You know…before you left, when I wasn’t…” He sighs, and Hawke presses closer, their chests touching. “I wanted to understand him.” She feels him shift and frown. “I still do, but I think we’re closer. It’s been…so many years. Sometimes, I wonder if what I feel isn’t him. But in ways…in ways, it’s both of us.”

“Meaning?” She traces her finger along the curve of his shoulder and down his arm. The water is starting to get lukewarm.

“Meaning, he loves you, Hawke. As much as I do. In some of the same ways, in some different.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “I guess I knew that. Otherwise, why would he jump into the Fade?”

“I’m not sure he would have.” Anders’ hand rests at the back of her neck, squeezing. She smiles.

“I hope he knows that…I love him, as well.”

Anders hums.

-

When Hawke wakes up, it’s still too dark to see clearly except for the glowing blue that cracks out of Anders’ skin.

“Good morning,” she mutters as a hand rests on her cheek. “Is Anders still sleeping?”

This hasn’t happened in years. Hawke remembers her confusion the first time Anders had lit up where he laid in bed next to her. The sight had been beautiful, although worrying at the time.

“He is asleep but aware. He knows I am here.”

“Good. Will I ever figure out how the two of you communicate?” Hawke rolls onto her stomach, looking at Justice and smiling. 

He’s not quite Anders when he’s like this, body or not. Still, she loves it. She reaches out, slow, touches his face. He turns, and she has to squint before her eyes adjust to the power of the light.

“It is doubtful,” Justice muses, his lips twitching with an almost-human resemblance of a smile. “Hawke.”

“So formal,” she laughs, bending her neck to kiss his nose. “Thank you.”

“Anders is not wrong. Jumping into the Fade to find you was an ordeal. Not as easy as I am able to make it look.” He seems to hesitate. “And I would not have done it, if there were not specific circumstances that motivated me…us.”

“How can a spirit of Justice care for humans?” she murmurs.

“Well, I am not simply a spirit anymore.” Hawke blinks. Unexpected. “With Anders, I am multidimensional. If I was a spirit, the affection for you could be something that would corrupt us. Would corrupt me, rather. But…it gives Anders strength. Hope. Most of all, it gives him the truest sense that justice is something that can be done in this world. Perhaps for the good of the many.”

Hawke considers for a moment. “But you aren’t human.”

“Not really. But perhaps…as much as any spirit will be.”

Hawke’s lips twitch in a smile, remembering Cole. “Oh, I think you have some competition,” she whispers, and kisses him on the lips. Justice kisses her as well, lips moving just barely underneath her, his mouth opening. She slides closer, pressed against his side, wrapping an arm around his waist.

There’s a moment when they’re just together before Justice pushes her back, gently but firmly. She hits the mattress on her back and lets out a breath as Justice moves, each motion fluid and careful, and straddles her at the waist.

“Beautiful,” she whispers. Glowing skin, cracks that intersect with Anders’ scars, naked and elegant and hers. “Can you…is Anders awake?” She doesn’t know how to ask and she frowns as Justice’s lips twitch. “Don’t tease.”

“I recalled something you once said. Do you fear that Anders is…” He clears his throat. “‘An unwilling participant in our threesome?’” Hawke snorts out a laugh as Justice smiles.

“Just answer the question. You _have_ changed. Hopefully for the better.”

“Anders approves of the use of his body for the pleasure and release of yours.”

Hawke shivers. “So formal,” she murmurs, and she doesn’t have time to process the movement that follows as Justice moves to kneel between her legs, nudging them apart. Hawke lets out a breath and leans her head back. “Maker, this life is strange,” she says, gasping as a finger lightly presses against her clit.

They hadn’t really had the opportunity to do this since she returned.

It’s Justice, yes, but those are Anders’ fingers teasing her entrance and then slipping inside.

“Fuck,” she mutters, grinding her hips down. The single digit slides and crooks slightly inside of her and she shudders. “Please.”

Justice hums, and his voice seems to come from all corners. She closes her eyes and tries to focus on where the voice comes from, but before she can even think about it, his warm tongue presses against her clit, a finger still inside.

Hawke squirms and fumbles, reaching down to tangle her fingers into Anders’ – Justice’s, Maker knows – hair. She squeezes and there’s another reverberating hum that shocks through her. She sighs as he fucks her, slow licks that pace into harder, faster strokes of his tongue, the twist of what are now two fingers inside her.

She grinds against his face, not paying attention to the finer details anymore. She senses his second hand on her thigh, holding her in place, and she tries to breathe evenly as Justice softly sucks at her clit before laving his tongue over it again and again.

Hawke’s a shivering mess before he sits up, and she notices he isn’t blue anymore and curses, pulling Anders in by his hair and kissing him hard. She adjusts their bodies and wraps her legs around his waist, cursing and tugging at his hair until she’s rolled over on top of him. Anders laughs as Hawke finally sits back and, straddling him, positions herself over his cock.

“Is he still...?” She doesn’t know what question to ask, but raises an eyebrow in the dark, hoping Anders will understand her meaning.

Anders hums and laughs again, resting his hands on her hips. “Yes. He’s…warm. We’re here, love. He’s close enough – he can feel it, too.”

Hawke licks her lips and sits back, wrapping a hand around Anders’ cock and guiding it between her legs. Anders breaches her and she bites her lip, taking him slowly.

“Maker,” Anders growls, squeezing her waist. “It has been too damned long.”

“You can say that again,” Hawke says, sighing as she sinks down further. “I missed you. I missed both of you. So much. So damned much.”

“I know,” he says, and Hawke feels the careful thrust of his hips. There’s a moment of awkward uncertainty, their bodies still adjusting to the time and the bareness between them, but the rhythm that follows is almost perfect, and Hawke smiles as they perfect the time between each other.

“Hush, hush, hush.”

She has to bite back the moans because she knows Anders likes the quiet.

It makes everything burst, he says.

She’s inclined to agree, although sometimes she wants to shout when she’s with him, just to prove that they can.

Hawke indulges him, keeping the noises from escaping her throat as he pushes his hips into her harder, and she rocks down against his cock.

It’s eventually enough, and she claps a hand over her mouth as she comes, shuddering and squeezing her thighs against his hips. Anders swears as he continues to thrust into her, and as Hawke is blinking away the lights that cloud her vision from her mind, she feels him come with a low groan before he pulls her down to his chest and shoulders. 

She laughs against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his skin. “Perfect,” she says, and Anders huffs out a laugh. “Absolutely.”

“Justice is pleased as well. He’s happy that you’re happy.”

“I hope you’re happy as well.”

“Yes, he’s happy that I’m happy too. And I’m happy that he’s happy. Does that make _you_ happy?”

Hawke can’t help that she laughs. “It does,” she admits. “You know, I never quite saw my life going this way.”

“You imagined riches and a fancy suitor and dancing surrounded by the finest crystals?” Anders teases, softly.

“No. I didn’t really imagine anything,” she admits, splaying her fingers along his chest as she curls up close to his side. “Not happiness, certainly. Two apostate girls without a father to protect them…An angry brother who would have become a Templar if he’d had the chance, I’m sure of it.” She hums, presses closer. “Carver’s the only one left.”

“Hawke…”

“Shh, it’s alright. I have you. I’m here, and everyone left that I love is _alive_. I couldn’t complain about it for a second.”

“Is this what we’re going to be now? Apostates on the run…things will change, Anders.”

“Leliana as Divine is certainly…Well, perhaps.”

She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “It’s alright, love,” she says. “We’re in this together. Wherever it goes.”

“I know,” he says, and she wraps her arms around him.


End file.
